


The Father

by Sookiestark



Series: Seven Times Tyrion Married Sansa [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Giant of House Lannister, Tyrion is taller than Jaime- ultimately, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: What would have happened if Tyrion Lannister was not a dwarf?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So- this is the second part of the question... Did Tywin hate Tyrion because he was a dwarf or because he killed Joanna in his birth? In this story, Tyrion is not a dwarf and we will see how that changes things. But of course, he meets and marries Sansa... I am just taking too long with The Mother and the next three stories have been waiting a long time to be written ...
> 
> Just a glimpse of Tywin meeting Tyrion...

273

Lord Tywin Lannister had come home because his wife had to be buried. He had been married to Joanna for eleven years but he had known her for her entire life. She had been beautiful, smart, witty, charming, and graceful. With hair of gold and eyes of green, she was the most beautiful women in Seven Kingdoms. He had loved her.

Joanna had been perfect in every way except one. Though he tried hard not to mention it, Joanna had a hard time getting pregnant. In eleven years, she had only been pregnant twice. Six years ago, she had given birth to twins, Cersei and Jaime. In one birth, she had brought two healthy children, a boy, and a girl. That was no small feat. However, it had taken her four years to get pregnant with the twins. Tywin hadn’t needed to have more children but he started to notice that his brothers and cousins had more and more heirs and he only had the two.

He had mentioned it to her once and noticed the way her jaw had set tight. It seemed that Joanna had also thought about why she hadn’t had more children. However several moons later, after six years, she had told him in a letter that she was expecting. He had been happy and excited. After all, another son for House Lannister would not be a bad thing.

Now, as he walked through Casterly Rock’s gates, he wished to himself that he had never said anything, that he had never asked for another child. Joanna was dead and he would rather have her back than an infant. 

His brother, Kevan, had sent word that he would arrange for the service and the burial. Since it was winter, they could wait until Lord Tywun returned home. However, because of the winter weather, the roads were bad and the Bay had started to freeze. It had taken Tywin several months before he could leave the capitol for Joanna’s burial.

 

It was late at night when Tywin returned to the Rock. Kevan had gotten up from bed to welcome his brother and Lord, but everyone else was still abed. Tywin had told his brother he would be retiring and that he should return to his own quarters.

However, Tywin found that he could not sleep in his room. Every inch of that room reminded him of Joanna. She should be there sleeping beside him, not in some stone crypt waiting for burial. Restless, he went to his children’s rooms to look in on his children. He needed some comfort and perhaps, a glimpse of the twins would help. Joanna had moved Cersei from the nursery last year. Cersei had a room near the Lady’s rooms. Briefly, Tywin had wondered why she had moved his daughter from the nursery. After all, Cersei was barely six, still young enough to share the nursery with her brother. The only explanation she had given him was, “Our daughter might be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps we should get her used to her own rooms. “

Tywin was not usually sentimental and he blamed it on his grief. He woke Cersei’s nurse when he opened the door. For a moment, the old woman was preparing to shriek out for help. But when she saw that it was Cersei’s father, she started to wrap her robe about her and leave the room. Tywin spoke dismissively, “There is no need for you to leave. I have only come to check in on my daughter."

Cersei laid in her bed and looked like Joanna had when she was small. Her mouth was slightly open and her hair looked like spun old in the firelight. As sweet as the Maiden, Cersei’s face was delicate in repose. Tywin almost smiled to see her. Instead of watching her sleep, he continued to the nursery.

Tywin knew the steps to the nursery instinctively. After all, he had lived there until he was sent to be a page to King Aegon V. He had remembered the rooms fondly and his own mother had often spent a great deal of time there with them. 

There was a guard at the door and Tywin had been pleasantly surprised to not find him sleeping at his post. Though if he had been sleeping, Tywin would have ordered the man whipped. His sons were sleeping in this room and they needed to be protected.

Opening the door, he saw that Jaime lay in the bed closest to the door. Across the room was a cradle. Beside the cradle, there was a young woman nursing his infant son. Tywin regarded the wet nurse and went to look at his eldest son. Tywin had received word that Jaime was not progressing in his studies as he should. He seemed to have problems with letters. It would have to be addressed and overcome. After all, Jaime would be the Lord of Casterly Rock and he would need to read and write, as well as do sums. 

Sleeping in his bed, Jaime looked identical to his sister. He had heard stories of the twins switching clothing to play tricks on the staff and deceive them. Tomorrow, he would have Jaime’s curls cut short and that should solve the problem. He would not have his son in his daughter’s clothes, even if it was for a jape. 

Gently, so the boy would not wake, Tywin touched his son’s cheek. Tywin had heard reports that Jaime was an excellent athlete and horseman. The reports talked of his natural skill with a sword and shield, even against boys twice his age. Tywin was certain Jaime would be a good Lord of Casterly Rock.

Slowly, Tywin walked to the wet nurse. He could tell that the woman was nervous and did not want to offend the Lord of her new charge, but was uncomfortable in the presence of Lord Tywin Lannister. Tywin did nothing to soothe her. Because of her nervousness, his infant son began to cry.

Tywin spoke, “Let me see him."

The woman did not hesitate, even if she looked fearful. Gently, she handed the child to him.

In the firelight, the baby seemed well-formed. He had received word of the baby’s head being too large and it had torn Joanna. But the child’s head did not seem overly large to him. In fact, besides that first report, all other letters spoke of Tyrion being healthy and well-made. His youngest son seemed to have the same fine Lannister features from what he could tell. His hair was so blonde it almost seemed white in the light which had been the same with Cersei and Jaime when they were small. 

The baby fussed, eyes closed, from being separated from his wet nurse. Tywin spoke to his youngest son, “ So, Tyrion Lannister, you are the man who killed my wife.”

At that moment hearing a strange voice, Tyrion opened his eyes to look at who held him. Tywin noticed what appeared to be the only defect his newest child had. It seemed his right eye was classic Lannister emerald green and his left eye was black. 

Tyrion began to wail for his nurse, and her milk and care. The different colored eyes of his son were troubling to Tywin but he could not put his finger on exactly why it troubled him. He handed Tyrion back to his nurse and never again returned to the nursery while Tyrion resided there.


	2. Chapter 2

286 AC

Tyrion Lannister was bored in Casterly Rock. It was a beautiful summer day and there was not a cloud in the sky. He had practiced in the yard until his arm was sore with Ser Broome. He had ridden his horse around the yard and even into the godswood. He had read his favorite chapter of his favorite book three times. He had been staring out the window of the dining room for at least an hour. It was still early. Tyrion knew he should have patience and wait but he did not have a great deal of patience.

He blamed this on the fact he was a Lannister and Lannisters never waited. They didn’t have to wait. They were the richest and most powerful houses in the realm. 

He would rather be riding or hunting or fighting or hawking. The King would often go hunting and as the King’s squire, it would be his job to attend to him. Often that meant making sure the King’s cup of wine was always filled. It turned out that Tyrion was good at keeping the cup filled, as well as knowing what His Grace might want before the King knew he wanted it. This had endeared him to the King. This coupled with the fact he was good with a sword and a bow, as well knowing a hundred bawdy jokes. Tyrion also had begun to believe that recently the King had noticed how little the Queen and his father cared for him or trusted him. As soon as the King noticed that, it almost seemed he liked Tyrion more.

Recently, the King had started letting Tyrion drink with him as they hunted, not just watered down wine reserved for children but wine, ale, and beer. If the King drank it, he would let Tyrion pour himself a small cup. 

“Not too much,” the King would roar, laughing. “I don’t need Lord Tywin Lannister up my ass.”

Tyrion knew that his father would not approve but he did not think the King should worry. His father would never find out. After all, Tywin Lannister was too busy to be bothered with his youngest son. In fact, Tyrion often had the feeling his father wished Tyrion would disappear altogether. 

He had liked the taste of the wine and liked, even more, the sweet hazy warm feeling that followed the taste. Tyrion wondered if the steward of Casterly Rock was as watchful as the steward of the Red Keep or if he would be able to swipe some wine. Some stolen wine might make the time pass quickly.

Tyrion promised himself if his brother did not get up in the next half an hour that he would go wake him up. Jaime had still not gotten up from his room and the sun had risen at least an hour ago. He knew Jaime was enjoying this small break from King's Landing and a morning he could sleep in, but he had known that was today was a special day for Tyrion. Part of him wondered if part of Jaime sleeping in was to show him patience or some sort of jape at his expense. It wasn’t like Jaime to be cruel to him. He took a deep breath and wondered if he should just take his horse and go for another ride. 

Today was the day that he would be getting the sword and a set of armor his father had paid to be made for him. The armorer was just outside the city on a country road and he desperately wanted Jaime to get up so that they could go. His father had said he was growing too fast and had threatened to make Tyrion use the old leather armor that they could find in the armory. But in the end, Tywin would not let his youngest son make do in old armor, especially if he was the King’s squire. Tywin would not have his son look shabby if he was going to be in tourneys. 

Tyrion thought he should read a new book. He liked reading, much more than most boys who were his age. In fact, a young squire from House Florent had teased him that he should be a Maester or a septon with how much he read. Tyrion had throttled the boy and showed him that he was no lightweight or soft boy. At thirteen, he was almost six foot and full of muscle. He had a good eye and a good sword arm. He may never be as good as Jaime but he would not be anyone’s easy mark. Aunt Genna said that with his quick mind and his good sword hand he was the very image of his father at the same age. Uncle Gerion said he would be a skilled strategist and maybe someday, he might be the Hand of the King to his nephew, Prince Joffrey. 

Tyrion pulled a book off his desk. He started reading The Lives of the Four Kings. He loved reading about the old Targaryen Kings and their dragons. It was one of the reasons he had loved to read when he was smaller, reading about dragons and the Dragon Kings. Since he could remember, he loved stories about dragons. However, the dragons were long gone as were the Targaryens. Now, King Robert Baratheon I was King and Tyrion’s sister Cersei was Queen. 

Recently, the Queen had delivered Prince Joffrey, a red-faced golden-haired squalling boy. The boy always cried. King Robert liked to joke that it was his Lannister side that made him so whiny Tyrion never laughed when the King made jokes at the Lannister expense. Tyrion supposed it was easier for him than most to deal with people who were hurtful or cruel to him. After all, he had grown up around Cersei and her hatred for him had known no bounds. Of course, he was older now and could take care of himself. She may say hurtful things but she could not physically hurt him anymore. 

His sister, Cersei, wanted little to do with him. She called him a monster and said he killed their mother with his monstrous head. Cersei was the prettiest woman he knew but she was cruel and would pinch him or twist his arm. She called him an imp, a demon, a kinslayer. She said his black eye showed the darkness in his soul. Tyrion avoided her at all costs. Since she was six years older than him and a girl, it was easy to avoid her.

His brother, Jaime, was his hero. Jaime was excellent with a horse, a sword, or a lance. Jaime had been sent to be fostered at the Crakehalls when Tyrion had been small. But when Jaime came home, the boys would be in each others company constantly, wrestling, playing and Tyrion listening to all the stories that Jaime would tell him of knights and the tenants of chivalry. Jaime would tell the best stories of tourneys, battles, and legendary knights wielding swords. Tyrion knew that one day his brother would be one of the greatest knights in the history of Westeros. 

 

His Uncle Gerion was his favorite uncle and taught him to fight with a sword and shield. The Master-At-Arms, Ser Benedict Broome, taught him to hold a lance and ride. They would say that he might never have the skill as his brother, but his fighting skill would never bring him shame. Uncle Gerion would tell him with a smile and a wink, “Watch, Tyrion, and you too may win a tourney or two when the time comes.”

Uncle Gerion was more than just someone to teach him to use a sword. Uncle Gerion would listen to him talk. Tyrion loved to talk to Uncle Gerion about everything, the books he read, the thoughts he had, but mostly, Tyrion talked about dragons. Tyrion would read all he could about dragons. Once, when he was very small, Uncle Gerion had asked him what he had wanted for a name day present and Tyrion had asked for a dragon. Uncle Gerion had laughed but bought him a hound puppy with a coat of gold. Tyrion named the dog, Vermithor or Thor for short.

Tyrion’s father had very little to do with him. In fact, when Tyrion was around, his father’s mood was always stern. Jaime said Father was always in the same mood and it had nothing to do with Tyrion. But Tyrion knew Jaime was being kind. Tyrion knew why his father hated him. Father hated him because he had killed his mother, the only woman his father had ever loved.

In typical boy dreams, Tyrion would often have daydreams of the hundreds of ways he would someday show his father that he was exceptional. The only problem was that the only thing that made Tyrion exceptional were his eyes. He hated this about himself. His brother and sister were beautiful, without blemish, perfect in every way. Only Tyrion was blemished with his one eye dark and black, the other, perfect emerald green. To him, his eyes showed how he would never be as good as Jaime. He always noticed how his Father would avoid looking at his eyes.

Tyrion thought he also was blessed with plenty of wits and intelligence. Maester Creylen would say that Tyrion was an avid reader, even at a young age and that he was quick to learn and remember what he read, as well as his studies. Maester Creylen and Uncle Kevan would praise Tyrion for his intelligence and his wit. However, it never seemed to impress Father.

 

When he was eleven, he was sent to King's Landing to be a page to his sister’s betrothed and the new King, Robert I. Robert was strong and lean, a fierce warrior with a good laugh, and a good friend. Though Tyrion noticed the King seemed to enjoy drinking and tourneys a bit too much, Tyrion could not fault him at all because he loved tourneys and wine. The King also seemed to enjoy woman and they never denied him. In fact, the King always seemed to have a mistress or a serving girl in his bed. Tyrion thought that this was because his sister, the Queen, wanted nothing to do with the King. 

 

“Daydreaming again?” 

Tyrion turned to look at the voice, It was Jaime. With a giant grin, Jaime spoke, “Let’s go get your sword.”

\----------------------------

 

It was a day later when Tyrion returned to Casterly Rock. On the way home from the armorer, Jaime and Tyrion had run into a young girl who was being chased by four men meaning to rape her. Tyrion had slain one and Jaime had killed another. Jaime had ridden off with a few guards to hunt down the two remaining who had fled into the woods. Before he disappeared, Jaime had instructed Tyrion to escort the girl back to where she lived. 

Tyrion had sent the men with the wagon full of his new armor back to Casterly Rock. At first, Tyrion was a bit resentful of this skinny girl. He should be with Jaime hunting down criminals instead of escorting girls home. But Tyrion reminded himself that chivalry was about protecting the innocent as well. Tyrion had pulled her up so she could ride behind him on the horse. Smiling, Tyrion asked her, “My lady, what is your name?” 

The girl giggled at the compliment, “Milord, I am no lady. My name is Tysha.”

As they rode, the girl squeezed him tight and spoke with admiration, “Milord, You were so brave like the Warrior himself.”

Tysha was pretty with big blue eyes and dark hair. He thought she looked hungry and thirsty as well. They had ridden passed an inn not too far back. Tyrion would take her there to get fed. Of course, when he had ordered food, he had ordered wine. One jug led to another to another. Soon, the room was floating and the light seemed hazy. Tyrion was certain she was the prettiest woman he had ever met. Tysha was an orphan and had no family alive. Tyrion promised her a job in the kitchens. It was unsafe in the world and she would be safe in Casterly Rock. But the best part of Tysha was she thought he was special and she listened to his every word as if he was important. 

Tyrion could not remember who kissed who first but once the kissing started, Tyrion did not want them to stop. He bought a room and led her upstairs. She cried and Tyrion told her that he would keep her safe always, that he would be gentle, that he loved her. He whispered sweet words of love and wiped her tears. He had her at least twice before he fell asleep with her curled in his arms.

With his head pounding from the wine, the next day, Tyrion took her to Casterly Rock swearing Tysha to secrecy about what they had done the night before. Tyrion told her, “You will be safe here. I will come and visit. You will be well cared for working in the kitchens of the Rock.”

She had spoken, “Milord, will you promise me that you will come and visit? After all, you said you loved me.” 

Tyrion felt his skin flush as he remembered telling her that lie. He kissed her, “Yes, of course. I will come and visit every night ” 

When he entered the dining hall of Casterly Rock, Jaime had told Uncle Kevan and Uncle Gerion of the exploits and Tyrion had to relay the story. They clapped him on the shoulder and praised him, laughing at his skill with sword and his bravery, as well as his chivalry for returning the girl to her father. Tyrion would remember that golden afternoon for the rest of his days. 

Later that afternoon, one of Lord Turnberry’s daughters asked him to escort her around the garden and tell her of the bandits and the maiden he rescued. Tyrion was finishing the story when he reminded himself to go and check on Tysha in the kitchens before bed. No one would see him then. However, the young Lady Turnberry placed a kiss on his cheek and asked if she could be seated next to him at dinner. Later that night, when Lady Turnberry asked for a dance, Tyrion thought the girl, Tysha, would be safer if he did not see her. After all, what would Aunt Dorna do if she caught them together? Or worse, what would happen if Father caught them? Tyrion promised himself he would leave her be and it would be better for her. She would forget about him soon enough. 

 

On the next day, he and Jaime left for King’s Landing. Tyrion never noticed the dark-haired girl standing in the yard, the girl he had whispered promises in the night. Since he did not notice her, Tyrion did not see her tear-stained cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

289 AC

Even though Tyrion was only fifteen, he did not think he would ever have a better day than this day. Yesterday, they had defeated Balon Greyjoy’s rebel forces. They had smashed through the southern wall of the Pyke with a huge siege engine. Thoros of Myr had been first to rush in the breach. Then others had followed. 

It had been all smoke and fire. Tyrion, the King’s squire, had looked to the King when the Wall fell. Robert had laughed, “Want a taste of battle? Boy, go and find your brother. Keep him well or your sister will have my head.”

Tyrion had raced to get through the breach. He had enjoyed his time as the King’s squire. Robert was quick to laugh and quick to yell but he was generous and rewarded loyalty. Tyrion made it his business to serve the King. Robert always treated him well, even if he did roar endlessly about another golden-haired Lannister every time he was drunk.

But here, at the Seige of Pyke, Tyrion could see what a King was and how Robert fit that description. He was strong, fearless and with his Warhammer, Robert was unstoppable. His men would ride into certain death for him because they knew he was right there with them. Tyrion would be one of those men. 

Once he had crossed the breach, he had fought. It had been bloody work. There was blood, mud, and seawater in his eyes. He was sweating and screaming and the Ironborn came at him screaming and relentless. He fought them back and they fell before him. He felt an arrow strike his armor and another, cut his leg.

It was then he saw Jaime, white cloak shining in the mist and mud. He had run to help him fight off a formidable warrior with an eyepatch and a Kraken on his armor. Tyrion knew that this must be a Greyjoy because of the skill of the fighter and the cost of his armor and sword. Finally, in a sweep and a twist, Jaime cut the man’s head from his shoulders and the blood spilled on the lichen-covered rocks of the tower. Later, Tyrion would find out that had been Balon's brother, Euron, they killed on the stones.

Jaime looked at him, briefly, surveying the threat. “Well done, Tyrion. The King let you through? It is still not safe. Keep close.”

Tyrion fought beside his brother, slightly angry that his brother still thought he was a child and incredibly proud to help his brother. Jaime fought like no one he had ever seen. He was all skill and speed and Tyrion tried his best to keep near him and help him. His arm grew tired and he was breathless. By the time the battle was over, Tyrion was all ache and bruises, bloodied and exhausted.

It was after Balon Greyjoy knelt and his youngest and only surviving child was brought forth as a hostage for the Ironborn’s continued loyalty to the Iron Throne. Robert sat in the Seastone Chair, laughing and red-faced. The King looked at his childhood friend and Lord of Winterfell, Lord Eddard Stark and said, “Gods, Ned, that made me thirsty. Let’s get out of this shithole and drink. I need a drink and I need a woman!”

Tyrion had wanted to snicker but he had held it in. Lord Stark had smiled but seemed like he was already trying to make plans to return to the North and had no desire to celebrate the victory.

The King had stood up and called for Jorah Mormont, Jacelyn Bywater, and Tyrion Lannister. In the bloody hall, the King had knighted all three for their bravery and skill. Jorah Mormont seemed hesitant at first but the King insisted. Jacelyn had lost his hand and had a sheet wrapped around the bloody stump. Tyrion prayed that he was not trembling. It was not a small thing to be knighted at fifteen, but to be knighted by the King was unusual for even the best knights. 

Tyrion looked up into the KIng’s face as he spoke the words. The King did not have a sword handy and so he used Ser Barristan Selmy’s. Tyrion felt the pride swell in him, thinking about what his father would say when he told him. Surely, his father would be proud of him. 

The King took several ships and departed for Lannisport, leaving his brother Lord Stannis to remove the rest of the forces and equipment. Once they landed in Lannisport, the celebration was definitely fitting a King who had returned from putting a rebellion down. Robert went to the finest whore house in Lannisport and the wine flowed like summer rains. 

Before the King disappeared with three dark haired whores, he brought him to a room with Jaime behind them always protecting the King. Inside the room was a bed and two girls, one blonde and one red-headed. Both were naked and shameless. “You have been a good squire to me, Tyrion, even if you are a Lannister. You are loyal, brave, and will make a fine lord and a good knight. I got you some girls to reward you for a job well-done. You might be the youngest knight made in a long time. I was sixteen almost seventeen when I was knighted."

Tyrion thanked the King but he was already out the door, roaring about how he would need another squire to pour his wine. Jaime looked at him and patted him on the shoulder, rubbing his chin, “Have fun, little brother. But remember, I was five months younger than you when I was knighted.”

Tyrion laughed thinking to tell his brother that he would be taller than him soon but Jaime was already shutting the door. Then, the blonde kissed him and the redhead unbuckled his belt and all the thoughts left his head.


	4. Chapter 4

290 AC

Tyrion realized as he sat at the head table beside the King that he was married. Unsure if he was drunk on all the Arbor Red or if he was truly happy, Tyrion felt the ache of the smile that seemed plastered on his face. Sometimes, he would look at his father and feel the smile lessen. After all, he did not want to appear foolish or drunk. Tywin Lannister did not suffer fools.

His ears were ringing and he felt the weight of the words that he spoke earlier in the Sept of Baelor as much as he felt the weight of his brocaded cloak with lions and rubies that he wore on his shoulders. He would do his best to be a good and faithful husband. Tyrion did not think with a bride as lovely as his that it would be difficult. 

King Robert Baratheon had seated Tyrion on the King’s right side to show how much the King favored him. It was said that he was the favorite Lannister, favored even over the Queen. The King had wanted them married in King’s Landing in the Sept of Baelor. Even the King’s brother, Stannis wasn’t given the same honor. King Robert had wanted a big celebration in the capitol to show his love for Tyrion. After all, Tyrion had been the King’s own squire and the brother to his Queen. His father, Tywin had mumbled that the King should pay for all the extravagance but Tyrion knew Lord Leyton Hightower was paying for the feast. The feast had twelve courses and all manner of entertainment. 

The private party the King had thrown him the night before to celebrate his last night of unmarried life had been similarly extravagant with contortionists, dancers, wenches, and so much ale.

 

On Tyrion’s right was his bride. She was as the loveliest thing he had ever seen. Lynesse Hightower had soft silver-gold curls that cascaded down her back. Her arms were bare and her skin was cream, a blush under her pale skin. Her lips were full and her eyes the deepest blue. She was gracious and courteous. As if she were made for him, Lynesse seemed to know what he needed, whether it was a touch on the arm, a smile, a joke, or a kiss. Truth be told, Tyrion didn’t care if he had a big feast or got married in a small village sept. Lynesse was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even Cersei could hold no candle to his wife’s beauty and Cersei was a beautiful woman. Tyrion was very happy with the match. His father, Tywin, regardless of his grumbling, also thought well of the match.

It had all happened at the celebratory Tourney at Lannisport. His father had held the Tourney as a way of celebrating the victory over the Greyjoys and his youngest being knighted by the King himself. Though Tywin Lannister had little respect for their King, he did appreciate that Tyrion had been knighted by the King, as well as the favor Tyrion had with the King.

Lynesse had met him at the feast on opening night. She had come to watch her brothers compete and was surrounded by a flurry of ladies, cousins all dressed in colors of spring flowers. Lynesse had approached him that first night. With all the brazen confidence of a beautiful high-born lady, she had walked across the hall to him. Lightly laying a hand on his arm, she had leaned into him to ask him to dance with her. Tyrion smelled her fine perfume like lavender and honey. 

They had danced two dances before another asked for her to dance with them. It had been some Northern Lord, grizzled, bearded, and entirely forgettable. But Lynesse was too courteous to refuse him. Before she left, Tyrion had been full of confidence from the way her eyes lingered on his across the crowded room and all the wine he had drunk so he had stopped her. “My Lady, Lynesse, I would ask to wear your favor tomorrow when I compete.”

Her face lit up and her smile was as bright as the sun ever had been, “Of course, my Lord Tyrion. I would like that very much. I will bring it to you in the morning in the field."

She had come to him dressed in a dress of lavender embroidered with unicorns and dragons, all in silver and gold. She had come with a beautiful silver ribbon with a tower embroidered on it. Lynesse had tied it around his arm and Tyrion had wanted to take his armor off so he could feel her touch against his skin. As if she knew, Lynesse took her hand and touched his face, kissing his cheek. “I hope my token and kiss bring you favor.”

Tyrion had felt the heat burn him under the armor. He felt the flush of his skin on his cheeks. “My Lady, I am certain it will.” 

Tyrion had flown through opponents in the list that day. It was as if he was unstoppable and undefeatable. Tyrion had never done that well before and he had started to believe that the kiss and token from Lady Hightower were indeed good luck. 

The last joust of the tourney had been between himself and his brother, Jaime. Young Renly Baratheon, the King’s youngest brother, was his own squire. Normally, Tyrion would be certain that he would fail but he had not felt way on that day. Instead, Tyrion squared his shoulders and faced his brother, who wore Cersei’s token, as he always did. Nine lances they had broken against each other. On the tenth, Tyrion had knocked Jaime off his horse. The crowds had cheered wildly and even Father had almost smiled at him, proud at his skill. Jaime had taken his helmet off and hugged his brother gingerly. 

But when he had taken the crown of red roses and given it Lynesse, she had smiled so broadly and clapped her hands that he decided he would try to win her heart. Later, at the feast, Lynesse had pulled him to her in an alcove and kissed him so passionately that Tyrion had felt all the blood in his head rush to his cock. Lynesse had wanted a knight, a hero, tall and true and Tyrion Lannister was all of that. 

She had wanted to marry him that night and sent her father to speak to Tywin Lannister and see if an agreement could be made. Even before she knew the answer of the meeting, Lynesse had slipped into his room in the darkness of night. At first, Tyrion had been hesitant but with a little persuading, he had made love to her that night, as slowly as he could and with as much awkward skill he had. When her body tightened against him her breathing grew hard against his ear, Tyrion felt as much of an accomplishment as he had beating Jaime with the lance.

Lynesse snuck away before dawn. Tyrion woke in the morning to his father stating he had found Tyrion a bride to wed, Lynesse Hightower. Tyrion marvelled at how she had acheibved at her goals and was glad his wife was as clever as she was beautiful. He had thought to himself that they would be well-matched. 

 

Tyrion thought to himself today my father will make me his heir. Today will be the day that he will grant me the Rock, the legacy House Lannister. Today Father will see that I am worthy and well-made. Toasts were made, gifts were given, and the feast dragged on. Tywin stood and made an obligatory toast, wishing the couple well but he never mentioned Casterly Rock. When his father sat down, Tyrion wondered why his father hated him so much. 

Still, Tyrion danced. Lynesse could not seem to get enough of dancing and with her beauty and enthusiasm, soon Tyrion had danced with all Lynesse’s cousins and his sister, the Queen, as well as his Aunt Genna. In fact, Tyrion felt he had never danced as much as he had this night. He no longer cared if his father thought he was foolish. Instead, he allowed himself to smile. He would never make Tywin Lannister happy and he no longer cared really. After all, he had a new family, his wife, Lynesse. She was all he needed.

At some point, the King called for the bedding and Tyrion saw Baelor pick his sister up in his arms. Tyrion smiled even more as Lysa Arryn started pulling at his shirt and Lady Tyrell started untying his pants. He was certain they would always be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Tyrion and Lynesse together. I have written them before but I promise they will be much nicer to each other even if it isn't happily ever after for them.


End file.
